


Thorn at Your Side

by CAPSING



Series: Finished, not Perfect [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (that is Yuri doesn't understand how it works and is sure it'd end up blowing in his face), Drabble, Friendship is Magic, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 18:29:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8856247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CAPSING/pseuds/CAPSING
Summary: Yuri doesn't have friends, and that's fine.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's the first time a side-ship I like gets so many fellow fans. This is so exciting.

Yuri doesn’t have friends.

It’s fine with him; he doesn’t need the distraction. It’s not like he has the time, between practice, practice, training, school-work crammed in between, travel and even more practice. Building a future where he’s the best ice-skater in the world takes time, effort and discipline; ‘friends’ just don’t have a place in it.

* * *

 

Yuri doesn’t have friends because people are pussies.

They’re too soft, too fragile; they can’t handle reality so they paint it in whichever tint they wish for, ignoring their faults and embracing mediocrity.

It’s not that Yuri is too sharp, all prickling thorns to keep them away-

 

( – it’s not like he means to.)

* * *

 

His fans claim to _love_ him. Yuri reads what they write about him online, calling him all sorts of endearments – 'cute' or 'sweet' or 'charming'.

He tries to avoid them as much as he can.

It’s for their own good.

* * *

 

“That was too flat,” Yuri barks, “and your landing sucked ass.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he bites his tongue, but it’s too late; he wants to kick himself in the head, and if it wasn’t for the sharp blades attached to his feet, he would’ve.

This is why he doesn’t have friends, he thinks, as Otabek slides towards him, face stony as ever. Outwards, Yuri keeps his usual frown. Inwards, he panics. He hates this uncertainty; the new unexplored ground of their friendship is far more unsteady than the sketchiest ice, and whichever attempts Yuri tried at the past only ended with twisted ankles and bitter pain. The terrain is as fragile as fresh frost over a lake, where just one wrong move can send Yuri plummeting down as it all cracks and falls apart around him.

Otabek stops an arm’s length away; a few moments later, his distinctive cologne drifts under Yuri’s nose as he inhales, mouth firmly shut.

“That’s what I thought,” Otabek says, eyes skimming Yuri’s face before sliding away to stare at some point at the empty skating hall.

Yuri breathes out, watching the warmth in his lungs form a cloud in the space between them.

“When I was a kid,” Otabek says, “I used to pretend I’m a dragon.” He exhales loudly, creating a bigger, denser mist, obviously more experienced in the act.

Yuri snorts.

The flimsy breath evaporates, and the air is clear.

* * *

 

“I could help you,” Yuri says, shifting on the bench. “If you want.”

The wood is cold, especially considering he’s in one of his short outfits. He’s used to it by now.

To his right, Otabek takes a long swallow out of his bottle. His adam’s apple, much more pronounced than Yuri’s, bobs each time his throat works to take more water.

Yuri nudges his knuckles against his own throat, uncomfortable, and bends down to retie his skates.

He can hear the top of a bottle snapping close, and the thrumming of his own heart, loud in his quickly darkening ears. He’s glad he kept his hair down so they’re covered. His red ears make him look ridiculous.

“I’d like that.” Otabek says.

Yuri straightens, looking at the empty ice field.

When he leans back, his shoulder presses against Otabek; it’s by accident – they’ve been at it for hours, and his lower back and calves are starting to cramp. It's all forgotten - his brain can't process any other information other than that point of contact between them.

He freezes into place.

Faintly, he feels a slight increase in the pressure against his skin, then of warmth bleeding through, from his right shoulder, down his arm, along his shoulders, rubbing into his cheeks to colour them red and drip down to poke around in his chest and his stomach.

They sit side by side, quiet. Otabek isn't loud as other people are, isn't flashy or nosey or demanding. He doesn't talk if he has nothing to say, doesn't waste Yuri's time with inane complaints over his hotel room or room service or any pointless whining at all. Otabek is just _there,_ and there's no silence either of them needs to fill because even when it's just the two of them, it all feels complete.

It won’t last, Yuri knows; soon Otabek would fly back home, and so would Yuri. They’d promise to talk and keep in touch with each other, but they both have training and school work. Otabek must have other friends back at home, ones he’s known longer, and promises are just words that mean nothing if they hadn’t come out of your own mouth.

 

But right now, on the bench, it’s all much more simple – Otabek doesn’t pull back, and Yuri lets himself enjoy each moment that he stays.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are loved and appreciated ♥


End file.
